I just finished having dinner with Molly & Adam. Molly moved out at the end of July while I was still in South America. Its been a good minute since the three of us connected. Aside from our general catchup monologues we didn’t skip a beat. It consisted of Molly’s never-ending quest for love, my pessimistic views on (attempts at) actively dating and Adam shooting down our lady-like rom-com fantasies and trying to bring us down to reality. It’s the same ‘ol shit every time and I've missed it more than I realized. Molly and I get into long and drawn out debates with Adam (who happens to have the most logical and pragmatic viewpoint out of every man I’ve met in my life). He argues against romantic ideas such as fate and destiny, but then he turns the conversation around and makes up for it by assuring us that we are both great and will meet the right person, eventually. I thank the Craigslist Gods for introducing me to these two, I don’t believe other people are nearly as fortunate as finding random roomies on the internet. Sometime during the course of the evening they tried to convince me that I shouldn’t leave New York. I would’ve been offended if they didn’t try.
We didn’t speak about Adam’s cancer, maybe they caught up on that subject before I arrived. Adam goes to chemo every other Tuesday. He locks himself in his room for the first few days after treatment and eventually emerges about 3–4 days post-chemo. One day I got home from work and his head was shaved, “You just went for it, huh?” I hesitate to ask him how he is because I think it’s a loaded question. Once in a while I just try to beat him to the punch, “How shitty do you feel today?” Everything else I ask him is objective. I’ve pushed it out of my mind that he has cancer. I just keep thinking that he’s perpetually sick, nothing along the lines of a life-threatening disease. Every once in a while reality hits and he’s emailing us, asking us to be mindful of minuscule details. The last one had a note to please not run down the hall while he’s sleeping. WHOOPS, that one was for me. If you didn’t know, my feet sound like an obese child is running your way. I like to run down the hallway practically stomping. Yes, my apartment is large enough that I can run through it. He’s always home so now he’s aware of the amount of packages I receive, he told me I have too many clothes. He asked me why I need so many clothes. I told him I need them to attract my future mate and that he shouldn’t judge me. I lightweight feel judged now every time he tells me I got a package in the mail. I was a pussy when it came to telling him that I was moving out at the end of the year. I wrote him an email. I watched so much fucking baseball with him for the past month, fully knowing that I would be leaving soon… and I wrote his ass a fucking email. I didn’t have the heart to tell him to his face. Weak ass…
I am super checked out at work. I am at Senioritis level 100. I plan on putting my 2 weeks in after another month. There has been a ridiculous amount of stress and change since mid-Sept. I’ve never had so many mornings trying to figure out if I can call in sick or tell them I’m going to be late. I never get sick though (knock on wood) and they know this for a fact. I’m also too responsible for my own good that I refuse to let my team down. I’m counting the days until I can go, I’m also kinda freaking out at the thought of being jobless again, money and insurance are nice things.
I’m on a ridiculous text thread with 5 people of which I will be spending an entire week with down in Miami Beach/the Bahamas. I’ve had some epic group trips in my life, I have no real expectations as far as this one goes… but I have a feeling its going to break records. We shall see… I just hope I come back alive.